“Why not?”

“You were a wreck, Grace. You didn’t sleep, you didn’t eat, some days you wouldn’t even get out of bed. There’s no way I would’ve said or done anything to prolong your suffering.”

It wouldn’t have prolonged my suffering; it would’ve eased it. It would’ve given me something to focus on besides my grief. But I didn’t say that. Instead, I asked, “And now?”

“Now,” she sighed and shook her head. “I can’t even believe I’m saying this, but I’m siding with the drug dealer.”

“You think Alex is right? That I should just delete the file and move on with my life?”

“I do.”

“I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that. It will eat at me for the rest of my life.”

“Nothing you uncover will bring Jonah and Amelia back. And if it’s justice you’re after, well, the shooter’s dead.”

“But what if he wasn’t acting alone? What if other people are involved and they’re still out there living their life while my family’s gone?”

“If they’re out there, they won’t want to be found. I think that’s why Alex was trying to warn you.”

“I know he knows something, but he won’t tell me. He told me to go ask Jake.”

“What if,” Aunt Maddy said, “and God forgive me for even thinking this, Jake is somehow involved? Do you really want to stir up that hornet’s nest?”

I had no idea what I would do if I found out Jake was somehow responsible for Jonah and Amelia’s death. I couldn’t even let my mind go there.

“Think, Grace,” she continued. “What good could possibly come from pursuing this? Alex is right. You need to let this go.”

Aunt Maddy spent the night at my house. I’d suggested it because she’d drunk a lot of wine. She agreed because she didn’t trust me not to do something stupid, even though I told her I was feeling better.

Over coffee and toast the next morning, Aunt Maddy asked if I’d given any more thought to what she’d said.

“That’s all I’ve thought about.” I hadn’t slept much, which was evident from the dark circles under my eyes.

“And?” she asked.

Chapter 31

I felt like I was back where I’d started. Once Maria regained custody of MJ and Sofia, I might never see them again. I was about to be unemployed. Again. I was alone. Again. And I was no closer to knowing whether Jonah and Amelia’s deaths were random bad luck or a targeted killing.

No, you know.

Yes, I know. I may not have proof, but I know.

I stared at my aunt across the kitchen table. “You know I can’t let this go.”

She hung her head and sighed. “I was hoping to be wrong this time.”

I smiled. “Sorry, but you know me too well.”

“If I can’t convince you not to do this, can I at least offer you some advice?”

“Please. You know much more about criminals than I do.” She’d won a Pulitzer for her investigative reporting on a Miami crime syndicate. “Where do I start?”

“Not with the criminals. That’s the quickest way to get yourself killed. Start with Jake.”

“You honestly think Jake will tell me the truth?”

“Not if he’s mixed up in this. But that doesn’t mean you can’t get information out of him.”

“And how do you suggest I do that? He wouldn’t even tell me why he was at my house that day.”

“You’re a smart girl, Grace. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Chapter 32

I waited for Jake in the bar of the Mexican restaurant. He was surprised when I’d called since we hadn’t spoken in several months, but he readily agreed to meet me for dinner tonight. I chose this restaurant because it was close to Jake’s apartment. Jonah and I had eaten there with Jake once and I knew Jake liked the place. I liked that I could park my car one block over from Jake’s apartment and walk to the restaurant. My plan could’ve worked if we had two cars, but it would be easier with one.

I assumed the bar would be crowded on a Friday night and it was. But I came early and saved us two seats. I spent the extra time sipping my virgin margarita and rehearsing my story in my head. I spotted Jake first and, as usually happened since Jonah’s death, the sight of him took my breath away. His face was so similar to Jonah’s that I felt like I was looking at a ghost. It took me a moment to reorient my thinking and focus on their differences. Jake was taller and broader than Jonah, and he walked with a swagger that Jonah never had.

Would Jonah approve of what I was about to do to his brother? The answer would depend on whether his loyalties laid with Jake or with me. Before Jonah died, I would’ve said his loyalties laid with me. I was his wife and the mother of his child. But now I wasn’t so sure.

I hopped off my barstool and hugged Jake and he planted a kiss on my cheek.

“You started without me,” he said, nodding at my drink.

“My meeting finished early.” I had to shout to be heard over the bar’s din. Everyone was cheering because the Dodgers had just scored in the game playing on the big screen TV. “You’ll need two just to catch up to me.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Are we celebrating?”

I shook my head. “The opposite.”

I’d prepared a story about why I was in LA for the day—I’d lost a big custody dispute and had to drive my client down to her father’s house in Manhattan Beach—but Jake never asked. He said, “Then let’s get you drunk,” which was exactly the response I’d been hoping for.

I hopped back up onto my barstool and moved my purse off the seat next to mine so Jake could sit down. He flagged down the bartender and ordered a margarita for himself and turned to me.

“And a shot of tequila,” I told the bartender.

“You must really be having a bad day if you’re drinking shots.”

“It’s not for me, it’s for you. So you can catch up.”

Jake smiled. “Challenge accepted.”

Jake didn’t bring up the last time we’d seen each other and neither did I. We kept the conversation superficial—his work, my work, good movies we’d seen. Jake kept half his attention on me and the other half on the baseball game playing on the TV above my head, which was fine with me.

I concentrated on sucking down my virgin margaritas as quickly as I could then ordering “the same” from the bartender. Each time I ordered another drink, Jake did too. Jake wasn’t just competitive with Jonah. He was competitive with everyone about everything, a fact I’d been counting on. When he excused himself to use the men’s room, I took the opportunity to order two more shots, both of which I dumped into his glass before he returned. I figured by that point he was drunk enough not to notice. I was right.

When Jake started yelling at the television because he disagreed with the umpire’s call, the bartender told him he’d have to cut him off.